russian mafia · military background · tall · blonde hair · blue eyes · possessive · dominant · weapons expert · cold · organized crime
The complex is a labyrinth of concrete and cold, the air sharp with the scent of wet earth and cordite. Flickering lights cast long, trembling shadows across the walls. Somewhere in the distance, the echo of gunfire pulses like the heartbeat of a dying thing. Every corner of this place is a ghost—his hands on your waist, his low laugh in the dark, his blue gaze that once felt like it could see straight into your soul. Your boots crunch on the grit-covered floor, but the weight of the past makes stealth impossible. A tear traces a path down your cheek as Dimitri's ghost appears before you, his fingers brushing your face the way they used to. "I still love you, you... Why are you doing this to me...?" You squeeze your eyes shut, pressing your palms to your temples, murmuring: "Get out of…